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1885 



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18,0 



LITK/IOS 



■OF THE'. 



MClIl'fi YAIMY, 



BY 



T, 



BARTQri 



Of cofio=^:. 



C K\r\\i =: too: 



JOV 5 1885 ^ ^ 



188.3: 

THE GUIDE BOOK AND JOB FKINT, 

FALMOUTH, KY. 



n(.w 



'iS 



THE CONTENTS. 



A Void 1 

To Carrie— 1860 2 

When we were young, John 3 

To MattieW 4 

To Sister 4 

To Kate , 5 

To Carrie 6 

Fragments, <fec 6 

To a Corpse 7 

To Miss Beech 7 

To Helen— a dream 8 

Blue-eyed Mary 11 

To Carrie— 1857 .'. 12 

To Carrie 14 

To Mollie Doan 15 

To Same 15 

To Anna Mann lt> 

Death of Clarence Cowlcs 17 

Ella Sayer .• J7 

Mr. NaieCross «nd Wife 18 

Miss Moore, of Ohio 19 

Oen. Barton's Sword 19 

Two Ladies 20 

Kentucky and Ohio lil 

A Dream 28 

Gtjid vs. Viriue 24 

^V'i^e and Children 25 

Prayer 20 

To 2G 

Good b^e 27 

To 28 

J. H. Frver 28 

Isaac AlTen 29 

Our Freddie 3'» 

A Song for ihe Jolly oi 

Answer to "Wiio Am 1 ?" 38 

Use Simple Woifls 84 

Miss l.inda Desmukes. ..." 84 

The Bloom of My Blossom is Faded 8) 

Swiss Tolony of Keniucky 8S 

Miss Thompson 89 



CONTENTS. 

Skating wiLli Maggie 40 

To Emma 41 

To Hellen 42 

Loved Ones at Home 43 

ToMollie 43 

To Hellen 44 

Jane and Mate 45 

Nora , 47 

Jennie 48 

Carrie— 1859 49 

Lizzie Adair '. , 50 

Lottie 52 

I'll Come to Thee 53 

EllaSayer 53 

Carrie 54 

Some Ladies ol Culilwniia, Ky 54 

Friendship \ 55 

To , of Falmouth 56 

Daisie , 57 

You're getting Old, Tom 57 

A Hymn 58 

Uncie Ned 59 

Lucy Yelton 61 

Jeniiie 61 

Pi><ver for the Little Ones 62 

<-'arrie 62 

Miss Hamilton 63 

Sighing lor Home 64 

Lizzie 65 

Duty of American Teachers 66 



COPYHIGHTKD. 

T. M. Barton. 

1885. 



PREFACE, 



THE following poems, written mainly in youlh, have been 
published in book form, more to please my family and 
friends, than from anj' expectation of public appreciation. If 
they contain nothing new or brilliant, they contain nothing to 
deprave either the taste or morals of any one. The present 
book contains niunN^ iinperfo(;tioi)s which may be corrected in 
another edition. THE AUTHOR. 



lE^OEIs/nS. 



A VOID.— 1S57. 

TluM-c is a void, a wasting void now, 

Within my heart; 
There is a ulooni. nye on my youthrul brow, 

That b 11 tiles art. 

Yes, nature too, ye winds that pass me by, 

Soft as spirits wooing, 
Do but add a longer, deei)er sigh 

To my undoing. 

Ye snowy clouds, sh)W iioating Car away, 

In the starry blue 
All illumed by Cynthia's silvery ray. 

Adieu! Adieu! 

Y'e seem like childhood's slow-receding yeais, 

So pure, so bright! 
With which my early hopes and fears 

Have taken tlight. 

O golden days and ho[)es and childish fears, 

Ye all have lied. 
And naught but the rosy twilight of those years 

.Vi'ound im now is shed. 



OKKilNAL I'UETIIV. 

TO CARRIE— 18G0. 

(';n*ric' 1 lliought lluit wlioii we met. 

It fshoulcK at least, in t'rien(lslii[) he; 
So long we've l)een a[Kirt, and yet, 

How coldly l.)eains that light-blue e"e. 
• That light-blue e'e, 
So full of glee. 
When lasL we met, how changed to me. 

No more yoiii- smih^ is like the dawn 

Ofeaily si)ringtime'y iilushing day ; 
Alas, those sunny smiles are gone; 

Some cloud has chased them all away 
And O, tiiat e'e, 
So full of glee 
When last we met, is ciianged to me. 

Yes, colder than the glinnnering ray 

Of Cynthia, from a wintry sky, 
Art thou to me; O, turn away I 

Too coldlv lieams that light blue e'e. 
That light-blue e'e. 
So full of glee. 
When last we met, is changed to me. 

Fain, fain would I forget the past, 

Each hour spent in thy company; 
For since our friendship can not last, 
To think of thee is agony. 
No more that e'e, 
Is bright to me, 
Adieu, adieu, you've changed to me. 



ORKilXAL roETKV. 



3. 



WHEN WE WERE YOUNG, JOHN. 

O, tliose were j()\' fill times, John, 

How Irippy then weie we; 
We sparked the uirls in rhymo, John. 

And they sparked ^ou and me. 

'I'hongh tluiL ihey would deny, John, — 
We understood them then — 

They'd coui't us on the sly, John, 
And not speak out like men, 

'i Ik'v cooked I lie cakes and pics, John. 

T\\c tinware all did sliine; 
And iove lit all their eyes. John, 

When with them we did dine. 

They loved us then, they did, John, 

And we them, lull as well; 
They co(dd not kee'p it liid, John, 

Their tattling eyes would telL 

We wandered o'ei" the lea, John, 

And by the river's side; 
No thought of care had we, John, 

The world was bright and wide. 

O, those memoiies they aic gbid, John, 

I love to think them o'er; 
And yet, they make me sad, John, 

That they can come no more. 

Hut backward with regret, John, 

Too oft we must not turn; 
There's joy before us yet, John, 

If we, God's will do learn. 



OKKilNAL roETKY. 



TO MATTIK W 



We have been friends, but lo be more, 
Were not the best, perhaps; foi- me 

The envious fates may have in store 
A fortune all too hard for thee. 

And though the futui-e yet may brighten, 
Until it does, let i)assion die; 

For the heart, 1 can not lighten, 
Will surely dim with tears the eye. 

This savage war, with l)lo()d-red eye, 

Is bearing down on all the bi'ave; 
It wiay be 1 must tight and die. 
And fill a soldier's unknown grave. 



TO SISTEU. • 

Alone, dear Belle, yes all alone. 

Within this wild-wood's shady bower 

Yet none, I hope, will tlai'e intrude 
Ui)on this sad, sweet, [)ensive houi'. 

Above me now the branches wave. 
As blows a melaneholv blast, 

That calls, from its oblivions grave, 
A mournful memoi-y of the past. 

Yes, of the past, with all its bloom 
Of purest bliss, in childhood's hour : 

Ah ! ere the heart was known to gloom, 
Or youth's bright sky began to lower. 



ORIGINAL roETKY. 

or mauy a cloudless day of youtli, 
Full many a festal, joyous scene ; 

Before we knew aught else but truth, 
Or of this false world aught had seen. 

Yes, of the blissful hours, Belle, 

Ei"e ripei" years sad change had iirought ; 
When linked with those we loved so well, 

All lived and played in sportive thought. 



TO KATE. 

Long days ago I met a girl, 

I've met her too of late ; 
Her hair hangs thick with many a curl, 

They call her lovely Kate. 

Her eyes are bright, but just the hue, 

Or blue, or gray, or jetty, 
I can not tell, but this i* true 

We know that she is pretty. 

She is a lovely laughing lass, 
So sprightly and light hearted; 

I wish ^G ne'er had met, alas ! 
Ur else had never parted. 

O cruel, cruel, was the hour, 

When the rude hand of fate 
Snatched from my gaze, m}- pretty flower, 

My darling little Kate. 



ORIGINAL rOETKY. 



TO CARRIK. 



I've traveled some, and not a few 

Fail" ladies I have seen; 
And frankly own, dear friend, to yon, 

in love with some, have been; 
But few have hurled so harhed a dart, 

As you, fiiend Carrie, through my heart. 

O, Carrie, as you love my weal, 

Or otherwise my woe; 
I'm sure this bleeding wound youdl heal, 

Or soon more arrows thiow; 
01 not an other must you fling. 

My heart feels keenly now the sting. 



A FRAGMENT TO . 

There is no bliss, 

Can equal a kiss, 

Frim the lovely lips before me. 

Pray give me Init one. 

And your wooing is done. 

For 1 never will eease to T,d()rc 3'ou. 



TO samp:. 

Why do you wonder that Wheeler should know 
The secrets, which you to another impart? 

I'm sure if he did not iie'd be very slow, 

In learning, since he so long had your heart. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 



TO A CORPSE. 



Ah I cold Mild lifeless now that '-lay, 

•AH iDolionless, eaeli vitnl part; 
JS(» late all lilV, all i)eauty, gay, 

And hounding, that cold, i)nlseless heart. 

Now, death has diniM those Insti-ous eyes, 
So late the spirit's light illumed; 

And all, once beauteous, now there lies, 
Soon, soon, alas! to be entombed. 

]I()\v pale those cheeks, once rosy, now; 

And cherry lips so oft caressed. 
How cold and marble-like, that brow. 

Alas, on death's cold [)illow pressed. 

How heedless all this moving mass, 
ITiiMuchored s[Mrit, :)f thy fate; 

Though certain this :lread cup can't pass. 
Hut all must drink, or soon or late. 



TO .AIISS BEECH. 

Your robe was of the azure skies, 

And you a bright star shining through 

Wiiose radiant lustre never dies, 
But glows with beauties ever new. 

A face so fair, such soulful eyes, 
Such arched brows and lips of roses, 

Such beauty ne'er from memory dies, 
Not e'en when death upon us closes. 



OKIGINAL I'OETKY. 

TO HELEN— A DREAM. 

O! would that I could dream again, 

Ench uight, this dearest dream all o'er; 

Could see the vision, henr the strain. 
That moved my heart so, ne'er before. 

I wandered o'er a verdtint lawn, 

Which sprea*.! away smooth as a lake, 

When Phoebus with his car is gone. 
And winds no more its bosom l)rake. 

Save here and there a shady grove, 

Like umbrellas o'er tlje plain; 
W^here fairy beings, vvhen the}' rove. 

Might shelter from the sun and rain. 

And all ti\is plain was one vast sea 
Of llowers, save those distant trees; 

Of every die, of every hue. 

That could the nicest fancy please. 

And ever were the elves of air, 

Sweet-scented from theii' beds of flowers, 
Swinging in my flowing hair. 

And dancing in the leafy bowers. 

While beauteous birds of every hue. 
Rising from the flowery plain, 

Would soar into the ui)per blue, 
Then shower on the flowers again. 



ORIGINAL rOETKY. 

Eni\iplurcd with the lovel}' scene, 
In pensive mood I slowly strayed — 

When, bark! a strain which I did ween, 
Must be by heavenly minstrels played. 

Was this the birds? Was this the breeze? 

Or music from ^olian lyre? 
It could not be; 'twas none of these. 

It surely came from minstrels higher. 

The strain was old, it lirst was sung 
Some eighty years ago, or nearly; 

First through Scotia's highlands rung; 
It was deal' Burns' Ilighlnnd Mary. 

Do angels sing this song of earth, 
From memory ujt yet dcirirled? 

It surely is of heavenly birth, 

But they are never broken-hearted. 

O! now I see the fairy band 

Of minstrels, leaving yonder bowers; 
They come! they come! all hand in hand, 

Lightly dancing o'er the flowers. 

Upon the wings of light I liew, 

And quickly 'mid the minstrels stood. 

They were of earth, and one I knew 
Among that lovely sisterhood. 

Yes, one bright eye, one smiling face, 
Than others more beguiled my view; • 

I caught her in a warm embrace, 
And to ni}^ heart sweet Helen drew. 



10. OEIGINAL rOETIlY. 

Then quick as thought ihci-o caine a change 
O'er all the scenery of my dream; 

We wandered through a valley strange, 
Beside a clear, smooth-tlowing stream. 

A little in the distance yet, 

Both bordereil by a beauteous wood. 

This stream another like it met, 
And mingled in one greater Hood. 

O, happy hour I one moment more, 
And you anc4 I, dear gii-1 were one. 

Like those rivers, which before 

Through different channels long had nm. 

Then galheied round the festive board, 
One moment mirth was silent there; 

While evei-y soul unto the Lord, 

Was giving thanks in fervent [)rayer. 

And then each cup was filled with wine. 
With generous wine was running o'er; 

Was emptied to your henlth and mine. 
Some dozen times, perhaps, or more. 

But just where day and night were blended, 
There my happy dream all ended; 

8ay, sweet Helen, shall it be 
Unfolded in realitv? 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 11. 

BLUE-EYED MARY— a song. 

I know abouiiie, blne-eycd lass, 

In years she's nearly twenty- 
She's a smilinii- face and a laughing eye, 

And sweethearts more than plenty. 

Chorus. 
Her iiair is bi'owii'and her eyes are blue, 

Her lips are of a rosy hue, 
And among the fair, there ai'o but few 

As fair as i)lue-eyed Mary. 

In love and friendship she is true, 

As ever was a lady ; 
And lier li'ue lovers arc not I'vw, 

Who think to win iici", maybe. 

Slie sings as early as the lai'k, 

Her songs are quite as merry; 
And of all the prett}' girls I s[)ark, 

There are none I'd rather many. 

I know full many a dark-eyed lass, 

With rich and raven tresses; 
But blue-ayed Mary now, alas! 

Alone my heart possesses. 

O! ha[)py will the lover be, 

AYho wins thee, blue-c;3^ed Mary; 
Witli one so fair for eompany. 

His life can not be dreary. 



12. OKKilNAL roKTKY. 

TO CARRIE. 

1857. 
Friend Carrie, yon know, in the p;i8t what is written, 

What there is reeorded, an iill-pknising story, 
To y<^>ii ot" your conquests, of those you have ^nnlten. 

When a eo(|uette you reigned all alone ii] your glory. 

How lon^- and how h)ndly you laughed at your lovers, 
When for a few monients the fond fools could 
leave you; 
Each deefning himself the most loved of all others, 
Which fond, false impression must, yel, surely 
grieve you. 

Yet you could not help it; 'tis liuie you were i)re'»ty, 
And so .are the birds, the fields, antl ihetlowers; 

And they who walked out to see these, only met thee, 
Like them, tlower-queen, in your own -native l)owers. 

Met tliee, fair lily, as fair as e'er grew in 
Tlie lield, and as chaste as the violet blue; 

As sweet as the rose — oh I how could such ruin 

The hopes of the young hearts that loved her so truer 

Ruin! O, iNIuses, why are you so liarsh all? 

The loved little lassie quite rightly has done; 
Not Hnding it then in her heart to be partial, 

She could not wed all, and she would not wed one. 

And for her sweet smiles, and her soft words of kindness 
Her caresses and tresses and gentle bluee^es; 

For these could you blame her? O ! Muses, such blind- 
ness. 
Such folly, becomes not the good and the wise. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 13. 

Then let each lorn lover letiirn to his reason, 
And reason the reason he reasoned no more; 

Let oblivious shades settle o'er that sad season 
Of sorrow, that followed, when hope was all o'er. 

That dark, dismal season, when sori'ow broods o'er us. 
Like night brooding over a deep, woody vale: 

With despair's bhxck distortions out-standing before us 
111 readiness, ever our ruin to hail. 

But Carrie, my darling, no doubt you will wonder 
That 1 shouhl address you, in strains such as these 

Ur address ynu i\i ;ill, I fenr it's a blunder — ■ 

Perhai)s it niay wound, yet 1 ho})e it may i)lease. 

For to i)lease you, dear Cni'i'ie, was once very pleasant 
To many young fellows who followed the art; 

An<l bo you assureel, ihe ambition, at present 
Is greater than ever, lo win love, your heart. 

For there's luckless Lukins who loved you so dearlv, 
Yet had not the power his passion to tell; 

And Silas and Sammy, both crazy or nearly, 
F'rom loving a lassie less wisely than well. 

And there's Thomas Wheeler, as ardent as e\'cr. 
The flat-headed Dutchman (I would not deride), 

And a numerous iiost of otheis, quite clever, 

Who wish in their hearts, they could make you a 
bride. 

The good "English Poet" who sung once so sadly. 
Who mingled no mirth in his sorrowful strain. 

He, too, would welcome your presence most gladl}', 
(I love a coquette) and embrace you again. 



11. OKKilNAL POETKY. 

TO CARRIE. 

O! Carrie, in llie sunny gleum 

or pleasure, willi the thoughtless throng, 
Allow a life's rough ami rapid stream, 

A bubble, 1 have tloated long. 

I've sought the pleasures of the gay, 
To fill a void within this heai't; 

Or drive a sullen gloom awa^', 
But not one shadow will depart. 

And now, the young, the proud, the vain, 
May whirl in giddy raptures l)y; 

I vow ril leave their idle ti'ain, 
in solitude, l\\ sooner sigh. 

'T was vain, the hope, in you to iind, 
Theeehoofmy spirit's strain ; 

Too eold the heart, too gay the mind, 
To be what oneeyou were again. 

It matters not, I will not bow, 
Your sympathy was all I asked; 

My feelings, friendship's tender glow. 
Seemed mueh like love to you unmasked. 

Now, fare thee well, though false thou art, 

I still must wish thee eonstant weal; 
Yet never can this fervent heart 

Love one so eold, she can not feel. 



ORIGINAL 1M)ETKY. 15. 



TO MOLLIE DOAN. 



O ! deem me not ii lovesick fool, 
Nor full of fulsome flattery ; 

For 'tis witli every passioa cool, 
That I admire thy beauty. 

Yes, really, lady, 1 must own, — 
Now do not think me stu[)id — 

Your name, instead of ^lollie Doan, 
Ought to have been Cupid. 



TO SAME, 

I oft have watched the liltlc bee 

Kissing every flower. 
And wondered at the mystery 

Of its enchanting power. 
I've loved the sweetness of the lay 

He seemed to sing, as, far away. 
He bore the sweets of greeting. 

I've marked the fairy humming-bird, 
How sprightly and light-hearted, 

How much to music it was stirred 
By every kiss imparted. 

I've much admired his buzzing song, 
4s fast, the flowery fields along, 

Anon he now was fleeting. 



16. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

And gi'ciiter bards luive sweetly sung, 
How "every flower in the vale, 

When soft, by breezy fingers wrung. 
Leaves its fragrance on the gale." 

Fair lady, thoa my flower hast been, 
To bee and bird my heart's akin, 

And so, like them, I ni singing. 

I envy not the bird nor beo, 
Nor yet the fragi'ant gale, 

Tiiat kisses ever playfnllv, 
The flowers of the vale. 

For, lady, those sweet lips of thine, 
(/an give a nectar more divine, 

Than all May's flowers springing. 



TO ANNA MANN. • 

"Written in a copy of Eurn't; poems and preso:itwl to her 

Accei)t this book ; 'tis friendship's gift ; 

We have been friends, we may be more ; 
And yet my youthful hours drift. 

As wrecks upon the vasty shore 
Of the sad, sad past ; I fear I see 

Shadows o'er futurity. 

It may be but a moment's gloom 
O'er the heart, by fancy thrown ; 

rerha[)s a foretaste of a gloom, 

Whose darkest hour is yet unknown. 

Yet hope still smiles in the face of sorrow, , 
This ijloom will all be crone tomorrow. 



ON THE DEATH OF CLARENCE COWLES. 

OiirfVieiid is dead! 

And low'iy lies in death's dark bed. 
O! let ms weep, 

That his young life so soon is sped. 
We'll meet no Hioie, 

Unless upon the shining shore, 
Where he may wait, 

To welcome us when we go o'er. 
'T is til us we part. 

And thus i'nnu tinge's lone shore we start. 
Across iIk* tide; 

But Christ's his coiypass and his chart. 
O! he iM\n guide 

Our shi[) across the unknown tide, 
or death's dark gulf, 

Into a haven safe and wide. 



TO ELLA SAYER,— 1857, 

"Haveyoa forgottou tne ?" 
O .' never, while the mind retains 

One image of the shadowy past, 
Thine own, which still so bright remains, 

Shall be retained until the last. 
For could I e'er forget the face. 

Which flattery said resembled mine ? 
80 bright, so sweet, with smiling grace I 

O I Ella dear, 'tis only thine. 



18. OKIUINAL POETRY. 

• Yes only thine tluit beauteous mold. 
Yet, you those features do iuii)art, 
By leaving there for time iinlold, 
Your image on the waxen heart. 

I ever when I turn from care, 
To muse upon my younger day, 

1 '11 think of thee, sweet Ella Sayer, 

And all m}^ bliss at old Green way. 



TO MR. natp: cross and wife. 

Dear sister Lou, and brother, Nate, 
Your letter came a little late ; 

A faet you don't forget to state, 

Though plainly witnessed by the date. 

But then there is an ancient saying, 
Api)lies, 3'ou know, to all delaying ; 

To snint and sinner long astraying. 
Who late return and fall to praying. 

For in a sacred song, we learn. 

While yet the lamp hohls out to burn, 

The chief of sinners ma}^ return. 
If for the truth he do but yearn. 

And thus we say of all good things. 
Done l\y common men or kings ; 

'T is better now, and better ever. 

They do them late, than do them never 



OKIGIJ^AL I'OETKY. ly. 

TO MISS MOORE, OF OHIO. 

Miss Moore, if I uuist write a verse 

To you, and you alone ; 
I must conclude, \ou 'd have it terse, 

And sweet as e'er was known. 
But should I do the best I can, 

You know I am not Just the m;in. 

For how can I, at tliis late hour, 

Begin love's songs anew ? 
I can n:)t feel Iovp's thrilling power 

Awnke, at tliouglit of you. 
Then pray excuse me frouj t!ie task 

And sonnets of vour lover ask. 



GEN. BARTON'S SWORD. 

Say, where has it hiuig, while the tocsin of war 
Has sounded again and again through the land? 

Has it flashed through the battle's dark night a 
star, 
Still wielded as then, by a [)atriot's hand ? 

Like that bright blade of Bingen, on Germany's 
Rhine, 
Does it hang in the halls of father and son ? 
If not, let me have it, and hang it with mine. 
Which shall catch the bright gleams of the 
glory it won. 



20. OKIGINAL POETRY. 

TWO ladip:s. 

Two ladies stood beside ine. 

They were young and pretty too ; 

Their eyes — now do not chide nie — 
Were of heuven's brightest bine, 

And tile meljow light of love lit 
Each orb of beauty too. 

Two ladies stood beside me, 
In a church, not long ago, 

And their sweetness sorely tried nie. 
For there is no man, I know, 

Who could stand by two such beauties, 
And not feel his heart to glow. 

Two ladies stood beside me, 

Antl their words like music fell, 

With a witchery that tried me, 
How, or why, I can not tell ; 

Yet 't is ever thus with beauty ; 
Who can resist its spell ? 

Two ladies stood beside me, 

Ah ! their smiles I can't forget ; 

And whatever ma^' betide me. 
In my heart shall linger 3'et, 

All the sweetness of their presence 
Like a dream in memory set. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 21. 

KENTUCKY AND OHIO. 

Read at Felicity, Ohio. 

Flnil nolile State, we stretch the hand 

Across the tide, from land to land, 
And hold in one tVateinal band 

Kentucky and Ohio. 

The l)eaute()us wave, whose silveiy tide, 
Rolls US between, througli channel wide, 

Laves lovingly as loyal bride, 
Kentucky and Ohio. 

Its dancing billows, neath the sun. 

To either shore, in gladness run, 
As lovingly, as were but one, 

Kentucky and Ohio. 

It lives alike, IVoni either shore. 

Ten thousand streams together pour 

Their waters here, which tlrst ran o'er 
Kentucky and Ohio. 

Thei:, as those streams, let us unite 
Hand, head, and heart in moral light. 

While gleam and glow in mental light 
Kentucky and Ohio. 

In former days, when darksome wood. 
And savage war seemed nature's mood 

This valley in, like brothers stood 
Kentuckv and Ohio. 



OKIGINAL fOETl^Y. 

At River Kai«iii, side bv side, 

B}' Muuiuee's limpid, lake-ward tide 

Stood Hrm and true, in martial pride, 
Kentucky and Ohio. 

In these nm] many a battle more. 
Fought in the trying days of yore. 

Were found, their patriot blood to pour, 
Kentucky and Ohio. 

In later war, when rebels fell 
On loyal lines, with awful yell, 

Then answered with a grynder swell, 
Kentucky and Ohio. 

On Chaplain Hills, at Richmond too 

^Vhere charged the lines of gray and blu; 

Stood side by side, to union true, 
Kentucky and Ohio. 

Then let us ever stretch the hand 
Across the tide, from land to land, 

And hold in one fraternal band, 
Kentuck\' and Ohio. 



TO . 

Fair n);iid, thou art most wily, 
And think and act most si} ly, 
Yet sometimes rashly. 

Once I loved thee dearly. 
Yes, fancied nu)st sincerely, 
But you first acted falsely. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 23. 

In the face of heaven rashly, 

You vovved you loved most foudl}- — 

Yet how falsely I 

Aii-I since I've often caressed thee, 
Yes, in my arms have pressed thee; 
Yet not warmly, truly. 

Nay not truly, warmly, fondly. 
Yet always very blandly, 
A> e, e\er iVd-cl-i'. 



A DREAM. 

Just before South Carolina .seceded.— ISfil. 

Is this a wild dream of the ni^^ht, — and no more ; 

Or a vision, widch shadows the things that 
shnll be? 
"Do coming events cast their sh.idows befoi'e ?" 

Then woe to the homes of the brave and the fiec; 

I stood, in my dream, where the young and the bravi; 

Learn the wild art of war and its armaments 

keep ; 

Stood by the start' where our bamer should wave. 

As the winds of the morning awake from their 

sleei). 

O ! God, be our guide, on that banner was hung, 
A dark [)all of mourning, no star could I sec ; 

And the Goddess of Liberty bitterly wrung 

Her hands, as she turned from the veiled thirty- 
three. 



24:. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

A i^loom gathered over the earth and the sky, 
Ohio's broad wave seemed a dark gull* ot'death; 

But the revel of traitors and tyrants rose high, 
As they witnessed the Goddess give up her last 
breath. 

The minions of hell, ever quick to conspire, 

With tyiants, assassins, and traitors, were then 

Sweeping madly around me on pinions of lire, 
And laughed at the woe and the wailing of men 

On the morrow, the sighs of the great and the free 
Were l)orne on the breeze, as it mourned 
through the vale, 

For the lightning, fast-flying o'er land and the sea 
Had startled the eartli with Carolina's sad tale. 



GOLD VS. VIRTUE. 

Dear Iriend, I know, from what you 've told, 
1 've but to see, to love the maiden ; 

But then her Heart is set on gold 

And all her thoughts are with it laden. 

Then vain's the hope, I can not till 
The maiden's eye, nor win her hand ; 

No yellow ore is i'l my till. 

No deed have I to house or land. 

But I have health and two strong arms, 
A heart to love, and nerve to dare : 

And these can not be bought like farms. 
No gold with these, can she compare. 



okktINAl poetry. 25. 

I have a name uutainished yet, 

By M light that tliags bright honor down ; 
I lo\'e it more than jewels set 

1ji iwiy royal wreath or crown. 

Then let the maiden have her will, 

Yey, give her gold whoever ean ; 
There are no sovereigns in my till, 

I ean not be her coming: man. 



TO WIFE AND (HI LDKEN.— Lexington, Ky 

In {)assi ng through as rich a land. 

As e'er was vvarmed by southern sun : 

Fair mansions lise on every hand. 
And art and nature, here ;ire one. 

And yet, my thoughts are tlyiug still 
F'ar, far behind, where humbly dwell 

^ly wife and children, on the hill ; 
O I holy Angels, guard them well. 

The sun is setting in the west. 

His golden liglit illumes the sky ; 

Uis regal sjdendors round us rest. 
And hill and dale in beauty lie. 

And yet, my thoughts are Hying still 
Far, far behind, where humbly dwell 

jNIy wife and children, on the hill. 
O .' holy angels, guard them well. 



!i(>. OllKilNAL I'OETKV. 

And now, no more, his latest beam 

Is seen on liigliest liill or s[)ire ; 
But myriad stars above ns gleam, 

New love and woiider, to ins[)ire. 
And yet, my thoughts are liying still, 

Fai-. far behind, where humbly dwell, 
^ly wile and ehildren, on the hill, 

C) ! holy angels, guard them well. 



TO 



Cupid shoots his arrows through 

Lovely ladies" eyes ; 
And he, who dares to faee your two, 

By Cupid's arrows dies. 
But who, O ! who eould turn away. 

Though every glance were de;ith V 
1 never eould, no — never — nay. 

Though dying every breath. 



PRAYER. 

lie who sup[)licates a throne of grace 
In long, and lou<l and tlowery prayer, 

F(>r man, not God to hear, is base, 

And mocks his Almighty Maker there. 

Let him who prays, pray as our Savior said. 
In few, short words, yet comprehensive still 

Tray in the nan}e of Him who for us bled. 
And God will hear us and uphold us still. 



ou 



rlNAL PUETKY. 



27. 



GOOD-BYE. 

TO WIFE AND (JHILDKEN. 

Till' no 111 i>» past — Ur; moments tl}', 
"lis now almost the lioiir of three ; 

Stern duty calls me now and I 

JMust turn n\y face from home and thee. 

Good-bve, and \ncy our God above 
Still keep yon and the ones we love. 

Gorxl l)ye, dear cliildreu, ail goo Ibye, 
And pretty babe, one sweet kiss more ; 

Ah I now I see each loving eye, 

With swelling tear-drops running o'er. 

O, Father, dwelling high above ! 
Pr:iy keep these little ones, we love. 

O ! wdien from those so loved, we turn 
To tread alone life's weary way, 

Not knowing when we may return, 
Nor what may happen in a day, 

O ! how the heart s deep fountains well. 
With moi'e than human tonoue can tell. 



O I duty, 'tis thy bugle call, 
And all who follow after thee. 

Must waver not, though death-shots fall 
Across the path of destiny ; 

For faithful to the end, there'll be 
A crown for all who follow thee. 



28. OKIGINAL POETllY. 



TO 



Sweet liuly, but one tleetiiig e\e. 

Ill converse iield witli only tliee, 
AVould more my lieuvy heart relieve, 

Tlum months of rarest i-eveliT. 

Tlie love in tliose \-dvge lustrous eyes 
Those eyes of darkest, deepest hlue. 

More lit the ehildren of the skies 

Than mortal ehild, dear girl, like you. 

The smiles that play upon thy face 
Like sunshine on the morning dew 

Gleam with something of that grace 
That impels' smiles,! fancy, do. 

And for one kiss from those swei^t lii)s. 
Though blest with showers of honey dew 

The bee, the sweetest flower he sips. 
Would leave and fly with me to vou. 



TO J. II. Fiyer.— 185G. 

Dear friend, while now in pensive mood, 
1 turn to thee, congenial soul ; 

For as life's shadows o'ei- us brood. 
Our feelings warm beyond control. 

Yes warm they much for those who know 
The sorrows of the youthful heart ; 

Who oft have hiddt^i, long and low, 
Some sorrow which will not depart. 



okktINAL poetry. 29. 

High soaiin*:; now, my tVieud, above 

The trivial lends of former days ; 
I stretch the hand of life-long love, 

And hold yon dear in tliese my lays. 

() ! how I wish, yonng friend, that thon, 

— As oft I do in saddest hour — 
Wast with me here, that I might now 

Enjoy thy symi)athetic power. 

Yes long, lovefl friend will 1 recall 

A few )>rief hours, I've spent witR thee ; 

While months, with common minds are all 
Unknown, loui^: since to memorv. 



TO ISAAC ALLEN, 

President of Farmer's CoUege. 

Dear friend, forgive, if from the heart, 
A wayward impulse spring too free 
'Twill but express some little part 



Of friendship, which I hold for th 



ee. 



Yes, ever held, since first I knew 

Thou wast the friend of erring youth, 
Thy warm heart beating firm and true 
To all who walk the way of truth. 

Yes ever deep the constant flow 
Of friendly feelingfj from thy soul ; 

Like rivers in a sun-lit glow, 
As to the deep their waters I'oll. 



30. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

Au(l as the rivers deep and wide 
Into the seas of eai'tii do [)oiir, 

Tlieir weleoiiie flood of silvery tide, 
And mingle in the eeaseless roar ; 

80 do the tides of friendship flow, 
And mingle in the human lieait, 

With all its eeaseless gloom and glow, 
Forever still its purest part. 



OUR FREDDIE. 

One day as I passed very near to the dooi' 

Of a low, little cottage, with vines creeping o'er, 

A mother came fortli, and thus, did implore : 

Our Freddie, who once was a sehool-bo}- with 3'ou, 
In his halcyon days, when no evil he knew. 
Took early the wine cup, which you did eschew. 

And now, oh my sorrow I who, who can console ? 
He sinks deei)er, and deeper in the depths oi" the 

bowl, 
Till its hateful enchantment holds l)ody and soul. 

Long, long have I plead, in the most earnest strain 
And prayed till my tears fell like showers of rain ; 
He breaks every promise, my eflorts are vain. 

His dear little children — oh. Heaven's so high I 
Does the good Master hear, when with hunger 

they cry ! 
And his poor wife, in sorrow most wretched, must 

die. 



ORK^INAL POETRY. 31. 

C) ! would tluit tlieiingeli?,(erelhus be fsLould i-ack 
JMy poor soul vvilli sorrow) ou Iheir liigb, shining 

tiuck 
']'o He.'nen, in childhood, had lakeu him back. 

'JMn^p humbly in griof, nealh Ihe, all chastening rod 
I M have Iain the poor body, low under the sod, 
Well knowing, the s[urit had gone u{) to God. 

O ! come to the rescue, Good Templars, and save 
My dear boy tVom tilling a drunkard's dark grave; 
His soul, from the dej^ths of Lethe's dark wave. 

Dear Madam, our Urave little band's in the held, 
We'll gather about him every [possible shield. 
O ! rally. Good Templars, charge the toe till he 
yield. 



A SONG FOR THE JOLLY. 

O I come let us sing 

The joys that abound, 
In life's happy spring. 

As it circles around. 
For youth's happy hours 

Will soon pass away. 
Like the fruits and the flowers 

Of the year's merry May. 
Let each heart be glad 

And every eye bright. 
As we all dance around 

So airy and lioht. 



32. 



OKHtINAL rOETKY. 



Let music Ilovv on, 

In liarmony sweet, 
Wliile wo cliMse tlie glad hours 

With flying feet. 
O I come fair youths 

And share these joys 
While yet we all are girls and boys. 

Lei music flow on, 
Li harmony sweet 

AVhen youth and i>leasuie 
So iiappily meet. 
Drive dull care away. 

And grief from the heart. 
Let smiles gently play 

On each face till we pnrt. 
Forget all the toils of lite, 

Hut its joys. 
Oh ! hail'them 

While we're girls and hoys. 
Let each heart rejoice. 

In life's happy spring. 
And every sweel voice 

All merrily ring. 
Let music flow on 

In harmony sweet 
While we chase the glad liour^ 

With flying feet. 
O ! come glad youths 

A n d s h a re i h ese j oy s. 
While yet we all 

Are girls and hoys. 



OKKJINAL POETRY. 33. 



Let music flow on, 

In harm on}' sweet, 
When youth and pleasure 

So happily meet. 
We'll laugh and we'll love. 

We'll dance and we'll sing, 
But sorrow not now, 

In life's eai-ly spring, 
Forgetting the toils of life. 

All its joj's, 
We'll gladly hail, 

While girls and boys. 
Each heart shall be glad 

And every eye bright 
As we all dance around 

80 airy and light. 
Let music flow on 

In harmony sweet 
While we chase the glad hours 

With flying feet. 



AJNSWER TO "WHO AM I ?" 

That which murmurs, ye^ does not weep. 

Does down some lovely valley sweep ; 
That which never shuts its eye. 

Lies on a bed that's never dry ; 
That with mouth so wide and large. 

Floats many a pretty boat ancAarge ; 
That which runs, yet has no feet, 

And, as it falls, is still more fleet. 
Is surely, if I do not dream. 

Some ever-flowing, silveiy stream. 



34. OKKaNAL rOETKY. 

USE SIMPLE WORDS. 

Now, Willie, write your letter, 

In eoiiiiiion words of l;ilk ; 
You kuiov tlii'ir un';iiiin!^- l)ettei\ 

Aud will likely in.-ike uo l»;ilk, 
As you iiiiL;!it iu .-ipiiig seljool-men, 

Who llii-caio'h Webslers's woiulefs walk. 

The Hi lie woi'ds .'ire sweeter, 

— To pi'ove it l)v c'l kiss — 
They are jiltogethcr neiilcr 

— That above is for a Miss — 
And what now ean any wiMter 

E\er want than th;il and this. 



TO MISS LINDA DISMLKES. 

In the distance, I he.ir the sweet echoes of fame, 

Audil>iy whisperiug over lier name ; 
And nearer they coni(! witii each stroke of her pen. 

Soon, soon they will ring in the ears of all men ; 
And she, whose bright dnwn is now gleaming afar, 

Will light u[) our sky, like a luminous star. 
Long may slie continue, all hearts to enthuse. 

With the light and the love ot iier heavenly muse; 
Now ilying from earth to the realms of light, 

As she does, in her song of the "■Starr3'-crowned 
Ni«rht ;" 
Then leaving again in the very same hour. 

The h'ijhf of the stars, for the love of the flower. 



OKI'ilNAL POETRY. 35. 

THE BLOOM OF MY BLOSSOM IS FADED. 

1 know a man — he is old and gray; 

Some seventy summers have y^assed away, 
♦?inee briiihtly ihiwned his nntal day; 

\ni\ asyoutli and gayety meet his eve, 
He says to hiuisc.'lf, witli a sorrowful sij.;h; 

"The bloom of my blossom is faded." 

His memory lingers o'er his youth's glad day, 
Ere the pride of his strength was wasted away; 

Wlien he was as fair and as happ}' as they. 
Alas! that life's summer so soon goes by, 

Then wailing winter eomes on with a sigh, 
And the bloom of life's blossom is faded. 

As the witheretl leaves from the forest fall, 
And S[)read o'er the earth a sombre pall. 

So his youth's green leaves have withered — all; 
The winter of age has made them die. 

And the blasts through the leatless branches sigh 
The bloom of life's blossom is faded. 

But it is not age alone, we see, 

In his many marks of infirmity; 
Nor does age bring such poverty, 

Njr should virtuous age, as if loth to die, 
Repeat so oft with a sorrowful sigh, 

The bloom of life's blossom is taded. 



36. OKIGINAL POETRY. 

But joyous to leave this cumbrous clay, 
And llee from this wicked world away, 

To the pure, bright realms of eternal day. 

Like the swan, should sing, when his end is uigb, 

His sweetest song, nor heave one sigh, 
O'er the bloom of life's blossom faded. 

No crimson crimes now make him bow. 
For honor was written upon his brow 

At birth, and is even brighter now. 
Yet ever, as pleas ui'e'^ trams go b}', 

lie says, with a tear in either eye. 
The bloom of my blossom is faded. 

O ! why does the old man wish, a^ain 

To join that youthful giddy train. 
He was with tliem once, his wish haw vain ! 

Let tlie eyes grovv dim and, the blood more dry, 
We hasten to join a briglit train on high, 

As the bloom of lile's blossom is faded. 

Nor in manhood's pride was he beaten down, 
■ By the gathered gloom of fortune's frown, 
For she smiled and crowned him with a golden crown 

But sad to say, now his end is nigh, 
She's h'ft hivn alone, in sorrow to sigh 
The bloom of my blossom is faded. 

O ! ye w!io trust to a god of gold, 

Remember ' lis siiid in that Book of old, 

That riches, like binls, their wings unfold ; 
And alas ! when you think all secure, they fly, 

Leaving age in loin poverty's arms to sigh 
The bloom of life's blossom is faded. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 37. 

O, grief ! thnt the false -are ever fair, 
Or that beauty should ever lay. a snare, 

To beguile young virtue unaware ; 

Or when fond young hearts are united, why 

Should the}^ e'er be severed or made to sigh 
The bloom of life's blossom is faded. 

' Tis true, ' tis true, ' tis whisp'ei'ed so. 

That he loved a lady, long days ago, .. . • ;v 

With a fervent feeling which few may .'know*; 
And this deep sorrow may underlie 

The sins that have led him in sorrow to sigh 
The bloom of life's blossom is faded. 

But alas ! oh, alas ! 'twas the tippling bowl 
That maddened his passions beyond control. 

That burned his body and embittered his soul. 
Yes, this sure sire of sin is why . 

He is left now alone, in sorrow to sigh "^^ 
The bloom of m\'' blossom is faded. 

Now, you that have heard this tale, beware 
How you carelessly play with this cruel snare. 

Less danger there is in the lion's lair. 
Beware of the bowl or before you die. 

You '11 be left all alone, in sorixjw to sigh • 

The bloom of life's blossom is faded. 



38. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

TO THE SWISS COLONY OF KENTUCKY. 

Hail, ye noble, free-born Swiss ! 

Thrice welcome to our sunny hills ; 
Y^our own high homes the heavens kiss 

And keep you from the lordly wills 
— Together with stout hearts and hands — 

Of kings who rule the lower lauds. 

Welcome from the land of Tell 

To the laud of Daniel Boone : 
The one may match the otiier well, 

For brightly as the light of noon, 
Both names — Tell's yet undimed by age — 

Illume their land's hisLoric page. 

No Austrian tyrant rules you now, 
No foreign flag llonts o\'er Berne ; 

Tlie Swiss can die — they will not bow 
To tyrants whom they proudly spurn. 

Then welcome be the gallant Swiss, 
F^ree in that land — and free in this. 

Y'our Rhine and Rhone on either side. 
That north — this south — run to the sea ; 

Like Arnold's arms extended wide. 
To make a way for liberty. 

O ! welcome to our land, the seed 
Of Tell and Arnold Wiuklereed. 



OKIGINAL I'OETIiy. 3^9. 

Ye come where marlial spirits proud 
Rise quickly at their country's call ; 

And glory's dangerous pathway crowd, 
Though like the autumn leaves they fall. 

Look ! where honor points the way 
And duty calls, see ! the}' obey. 

Ye come where shades of heroes keep 

Their vigils o'er our country still ; 
An<l when the blasts of battle sweep 

The land we love, their voices thrill 
— Their glorious deeds we can 't iV)ru:et- 

Tlie hearts of all the living yet. 



o" 



Ye kindred spirits welcome, then, 
Well worthy are ye to be free ; 

We strike the hand with valliant men, 
And sing the songs of liberty. 

Welcome, welcome, gallant Swiss, 
Free in that land, and free in this. 



TO MISS THOMPSON, 

Who requested me to bum lier letter. 

What ! shall the flashing flames destroy 
This rich embodiment of thought, 

Which wakened such uncommon joy. 

Which so much [»leasure lately brought? 



40. ORIGINAL rOETKY. 

O ! let me keep each sacred page ; 

In future years they'll tell a part 
Of what we are, at this young age, 

Or feel a history of the heart. 

And if you wish those lines of mine, 

To treasure up till future years 
Shall write your history, line on line. 

Your joys, 3'our sorrows, and your tears 
Keep them, and perchance they'll light. 

With smiles, the sober brow of age ; 
And lend to fancy's backwartl flight, 

A lighter wing, each early page. 

And yours, in future years, may start 
The swelling tear-drop, from my eye. 

Or press, from this warm-beating Jieart, 
For thee, dear girl, a useless sigh. 



SKATING WITH MAGGIE. 

O ! lucky lad, how very nice, 

To skate with Maggie on the ice ; 
Skating is the finest fun. 

Even though we skate alone. 
But to share it with the fair. 

Makes us gay as birds of air ; 
For our pleasures, then not few, 

Now are multiplied by two. 
And should it hajtpen, as to all, 

That we fall, or uearl}^ fall, 
— Here are doubled all the charms — 

'Tis only to each other's arms. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 41. 



TO EMMA.— 1857. 



Oft as these eyes, in other forms, 
Thy beauteous semblance trace, 

!-how the swelling heart still scorns 
To give but thee a place. 

Yes but the glance of one dark eye. 
Deep-loving, lustrous like thine own, 

Awakes a mournful memory 
Of happiness all gone. 

Oh, by-gone days ! when oft we met. 

How sweet the joys with them departed ; 

1 love to dream them over 3'et, 

And wish we were, as then, fond-hearted. 



A WAR SONG. 

Rise up O ! comrades, now, 
March on with steady tread ; 

Let laurels wreathe the brow, 
Or willows weep the dead. 

Chorus. — O forward men, o'er the land and sea, 
Forward men, o'er the land and sea, 
Forward men, o'er the land and sea. 

Till the proud old flag floats far and free. 

At Donalson, our braves 

Like leaves, in Autumn, fell, 
And Shiloh's crowded graves 

The same sad story tell. 



42. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

Antitam's gory field 
Is fertile with the dust. 

Of those who would not yield, 
But died as brave men must. 

At Gettysburg our slain 
Filled all the land with woe 

But lying o'er the plain, 
And flying were the foe. 

Brave comrades, on the field, 
We hear the long roll beat. 

We hasten, do not yield. 
We come with flying feet. 

In God, now let us trust, 
And hasten to the fight ; ^ 

Let dust go down to dust, 
But live for aye the right. 



TO IIELLEN. 

Hellen, let the eye of hate 

Keep itsjealous vigils o'er us ; 

Let our foes our footsteps wait, 
As our shadows, now before us, 

Now behind us, if 't is sweet, 
Liketlie shade, to kiss our feet. 

I can stand their fiercest fire, 

Let them blaze, themselves to burn ; 

More in pity than in ire, 

I can smile and proudl)^ spurn. 

But my Hellen, not on thee, 

Must fall the blows, they mean for me. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 43. 

TO LOVED ONES AT HOME. 

Frankfort, Kentucky.— 1873. 

I see an infant at the breast, 

His face is fair, his eyes are bright ; 

He's pure as spirits of the blest, 
Who dwell forever in the light 

Of heavenly love, and never know 
The darkness of our world below. 

He brings to mind my pretty boy, 

I left him in his mother's arms,; 
The source of many a smile and joy. 

The youngest of our household charms. 
His noble brow is broad and bright. 

His loving eyes are filled with light. 

How rests he now ? how rest the}^ all ? 

The darling nestlings left so long ; 
I can not hear their feeble call, 

I can not hear their gladsome song ; 
But He who sees each sparrow fall. 

Will listen to their song and call. 



TO MOLLIE. 

Miss MoUie, let me tell you, 

— Now no harm, I mean in this- 

How very, very well you 
Are looking, pretty Miss ; 

O ! how 3'our lucky lover, 

Must prize each peerless kiss. 



44. ORIGINAL POETKY. 



I love your face, Miss Mollie, 
Fall of goodness and of truth ; 

The home of smiles that sally, 
In the gladness of your youth. 

Your sineere love of learning, too 
Commends you much, in sooth. 

O ! ever in this valley, 

Let beauty's })raises ring ; 

Like thine, at least, Miss Mollie, 
And pardon when I bring. 

This tribute to thy altar. 
This sons: of thee, 1 sino^. 



TO H ELLEN, 

Who sent me a boqnet of flowers. 

Now, Hellen, 3^our heart is for union ; 

These flowers declare the great truth : 
With such, O ! how sweet is communion 

When attended by beauty and 3'outh. 
Though age is not any dishonor, 

Nor ugliness any great crime : 
Yet, with the maid who has beauty upon her, 

I'd much rather pass otf the time. 
Here 's a kiss for the white hand that bound them, 

That wove in these colors so true ; 
O ! Heaven, with brave hearts surround them, 

Depend Thou, the ret/, ivhite, and blue. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 45. 

Yes, 3'es, 't is the union forever, 

This trio of red, lohite, and blue ; 
In beauty, its equal was never. 

In that, it but represents you. 
To the old flag my heart is still leaping, 

Than life, it is dearer to me : 
And morning, or night when I'm sleeping. 

My micd is on it and thee. 
Here's a kiss from the white hand that bound them, 

That wove in these colors so true ; 
O ! Heaven with i)rave hearts surround them, 

Defend Thou, the red, white, and blue. 



TO JANE AND MATE. 

Dear Jane, dear Mate, you both are dear, 
lean not tell which is the dearei': 

I wish you both were with me here, 
I wish a wish could bring you nearer. 

Then how much wishing would I do, 
Until I sat between the two. 

Then what a contrast there would bo, 
A.S great, perhaps, as e'er was seen, 

Two blushing roses there, but see. 
That rough and ugly thorn between. 

Yet while the contrast favored you, 
You 'd throw o 'er me your rosy hue. 



46. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

I say I wish you both were here, 
Now fondly leaning on my breast ; 

My bosom then would know no care, 

No weight save yours, so lightly pressed. 

O ! then an hour's sand would pass 

In one short moment, through the glass. 

Dear Mate, dear Jane, the greatest bliss, 
it e'er has been my lot to know, 

The sweetest cup, was love's warm kiss. 
Then most we feel love's tender glow. 

O ! what a holy thing is love ! 

Briglit sun-beam from the world above. 

And as the deep, dark shades of night, 
That veil our eyes^ away are driven, 

Wlien rises Sol in splendor bright. 
Lighting up the eastern heaven ; 

So do the shades of sm depart. 

As love's pure light illumes the heart. 

Then cbide me not because I sing. 
Nor tlnnk me foolish ^henllove ; 

How sweetly sings, in early Spring. 
To woo his mate, the turtle dove ; 

How loving are the two, when seen. 

Wedded mid the brunches green, . ,. p 

Dear Mnte, dear Jane, you may think stVange 
That Tshould sing unto so many ; " ' ^ 

Perha]>s you think I love to range,' - 

. And likely am not ti'ue to any. 

My heart, fair ladies, I 'd divide 

With beauty, though I had a bride. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 47. 

TO NORA. 

My fuir young friend, once more nay muse 
Takes up the harp and beckons me 

To touch its clu»rds. I can 't refuse, 
And now I '11 sing a song to thee. 

Yes, dear old harp, we'll sing again ; 

Awake sweet echoes, sleep no more : 
Come mingle in a glad refrain 

Of nimble numbers as of yore. 

We seldom sing together, now, . .-/s- ' 
But, like my good neglected flute, ° ^'* 

Thy voice is still a lovers vow .^r 

Whene'er it ceases to be mute. ; 

Then let us sing our sweetest lays. 
For youthful beauty is our theme ; 

As oft it was in earlier days, 

When love was still our dearest dreauii 

Now, hundreds in my path I pass. 

As through this life I move along ; 
Yet only now and then a lass 

Can move my muse, like thee, to song. 

There must be beauty in the face ; ? . 

There must be brightness in the eye i. \'i 
In form and motion, matchless grace. 

In head and heart a purpose high. 



48. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

There must be gems within the mind, 

That shine like beauteous stars of night ; 

There must be in the heart, refined 
And ardent love of good and right. 

There must be music in the soul, 

— A heavenly gift, as I have heard — 

To hold the heart in soft conti'ol, 
To tremble on each loving word ; 

To flow in numbers soft and low, 
To warble like the joyous bird, 

To tune the heart to other's woe. 
To let its joy and mirth be heard ; 

To sing the praises of our God, 
To swell the anthems to His name, 

When stricken by His chastening' rod, 
When blest with all His love, the same. 

These gifts are thine and thus to thee. 
Fair friend, I touch the tuneful lyre ; 

They move ni}^ muse to minstrelsy, 
M}' highest, holiest thoughts inspire. 



TO JENNIE. 

There's a memory every stealing 
O'er my mind, I can 't forget ; 

It awakens deepest feeliag ; 
'T is of one that I have met 

Long days ngo, in gladness. 
And I'm thinking of her yet. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 49. 

CARRIH— 1859. 

The soft, sunny hours of summer were gone, 

The flowers were withered and dead ; 
Old Autwmn had strewn the leaves o'er the lawn, 

And the silvery singers had fled ; 
When Carrie departed, tlie lady I loved, 

Wliose absence all sadly deplore. 
O I Carrie, come back to your Highland home 

To your Highland home once more. 

The bloom ot youth is on her cheek, 

Its gladness in her eye ; 
The wooing winds her tresses seek. 

As they aently pass her by. 
Her lips still wear the crimson hue, 

The summer roses wore ; 
O ! Carrie, cH)me back to your Highland home. 

To your Highland home once more. 

And now the Autumn winds ai'e gone, 

And Winter's sullen roar ; 
We gladly hail the early dawn. 

Of flowery Spring once more ; 
But Carrie comes not with the flowers. 

As '<he has done before. 
O ! Carrie, come back to your Highland home. 

To your Highland home once more. 



50. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

Her smile was like the rosy hours 

Of Spring-time's blushing pride, 
As through the woodland's shady bowers, 

I wandered by her side ; 
But now alas ! she's far away, 

Those happy dreams are o'er, 
O ! Carrie, come back to your Ilighhuid home, 

To your Highland home, once more. 

The birds are singing in the trees, 

The flowers are springing too ; 
Their breath is floating on the breeze, 

Which whispers still of you. 
O ! will you come again, my love, 

My heart is sad and sore, 
O ! Carrie, come back to your Highland home 

To your Highland home once more. 



LIZZIE ADAIR.— 1859. 

The sun has gone down, the long day is o'er, 
The plow in the Held, I leave as before ; 

I'll turn me from toil, from trouble and care. 
And recall a sweet image of beauty most rare. 

Yes, fly all ye shadows, give room for her there, 
In the halls of the heart, comes Lizzie Adair. 

O Lizzie is lovely, yes Lizzie is fair, 
She's pretty blue eyes 
And bonnie brown hair. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 51. 

O ! glad was the day, dear Lizzie, we met, 
And tliat it is past, I shall ever regret ; 

But as oft as the twilight of eve shall return, 
My bosom, for thee, dear Lizzie, will burn. 

Then fly, all ye shadows, give room for her there, 
In the halls of the heart comes Lizzie Adair. 

Chorus. 

The shades of that grove, that pretty retreat, 
Where lovers oft rove, where lovers oft meet, 

Shall ever moie sacred to memory be. 

Since, Lizzie, my love, it was there I met thee. 

Flv, fly all ye sha lows, give room tor her there. 
The halls of the heart are the iiome of the fair. 

Chorus. 

But, Lizzie, adown that stream, as you know. 

Is a shade where the waters more musically flow. 

A shade all alone, where the soft zei)hyrs play, 
Where the birds sing the sweetest, and lingers 
each lay. 

O ! vision of beauty ! thou ai't meeting me there, 
Where love lit the eyes of dear Lizzie Adair. 

O ! Lizzie is lovely, yes Lizzie is fair, 
She's pretty blue eyes 
And bonnie brown hair. 



i)Z. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

TO LOTTIE. 

Lotlie, love, I '11 set me down, 
Ere the inspiration's flown, 

And answer yours, which, he it known, 
This day, to hand came duly. 

Now, Lottie, love, T wish you knew, 
How fast the liery fluids flew, 

All my veins and arteries through. 
And heart, oh ! how unruly ! 

So long, my love, you did delay 
To answer me, (forgive me pray,) 

I thought you false ; but O ! to-day, 
I'm thinking much more fairly. 

And yet, loved Lottie, in the place 
Of letters, could I see your face. 

And hold you in my warm embrace, 
As oft I 've done so dearly ; 

'T would fill me with a living joy, 
And cares no more could me annoy. 

Than when I was an artless bo3^, 
Running round so rudely. 

But then, I can not hope to be. 

In time, always, my love, with thee ; 

Such happy hours ever flee, 
Alas ! alas ! too quickly. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 53. 

I'LL COME TO THEE. 

Written for a comrade to send to his wife. 

Quickly, quickly I'll come to thee, 
Come with the light upon my brow ; 

With the sunny smiles you used to see, 
lUit patience, love, I can 't come now, 

Quickly, quickly I'll come to thee, 

The war, as the winter, can not last long ; 

Cherish this hope and let it be 
Ever thy morn and evening song. 

Quickly, quickly I '11 come t(j thee, 
Di'ive all care from thy snowy ))r'jw ; 

8mde, my love, when you think of me, 
Let no gloom thy spirit bow. 

Quickly, quickly I '11 come to thee, 

Cojne with the smiles of former years ; 

The bloom on thy cheek, oh ! let me see. 
The light of thine eyes undimmed by tears. 

TO ELLA SAYER.— 1857. 

Since now thy lips have touched my flute, 

O sweet im[)ression :)f the twain I 
Its mellow notes shall not be mute. 

But sweeter, with that kiss, each strain. 

How oft my lips shall press it now, 
To taste the sweetness left by thee ; 

And love it, lad}', I must vow, 
As honey 's loved by honey bee. 



54. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

TO CARRIE. 

Carrie, I dreamed again of thee, 
But all unlike my dreams before, 

Yon frowned like fnry down on me ; 
We parted and to meet no more. 

Unless by chance, for pride did vow 
Never, never more to how. 

Your very smile was full of scorn ; 

Your look was like the liglitnings flash 
Your speech was of the tempest born. 

And smote the ear with thundei' crash. 
Glad was I, when morning's beam, 

Woke me from that ugly dream. 



TO SOME LADIES OF CALIFORNIA, KY., 

Whosent many lukuries to us at Camp King in 1861, with toasts 
and letters. 

Ladies, those fowls were very fine. 
Those cakes and pies were better ; 

But finer than fowl, or cake or wine 
Were the lines in that fine letter. 

A happy new year to all of you. 

And many moi'e hereafter ; 
JNIay sorrow and age keep out of view, 

But follow you J03' and laughter. 

Adieu dear girls, a long adieu. 

May angels keep you ever ; 
Our hearts and homes will be with you, 

Though we should meet you never. 



ORIGINAL FOETKY. 55. 

FRIENDSHIP. 

ToWm. Skinner. 

Friendship ! O ! how h)vely I 

When two young and boiinchug hearts 

Like ours, are linked together, 
Ere the bloom of life departs. 

While the pulses beat so wildly 

In the ardency of youth, 
And heart to heart throbs warmly, 

While they glow with love and truth. 

While the bright eye neath its lashes, 

Like lightning from the cloud, 
Glances, gleams, and flashes 

From its arches high aud proud. 

While the quick red glow of passion. 

Mounting to the cheek and brow, 
Show the spirit of a fashion. 

That is neither cold nor low. 

Shows the heart is full of feeling 

For a fellow, when we know, 
Misfortune's hand is dealing 

On his head a heavy blow. 

Full of (i r m a n d ti e ry c o u i" a ge 

While battling for the right 
On the bloody field of carnage, 

Or in a moral fight. 



56. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

TO , OF FALMOUTH, KY. 

Fiiir frienti, how can it be, 

Tliat3'ou corae with smiles to ine ? 
Let me sing one song to thee. 

Thou art lovely as the morn, 

When the day's glad hopes are boru ; 
As the stars, that heaven adorn. 

Thou art fair as fairest flower, 

Born in summer's sunny hour, 
In parterre or lady's bovver. 

Thy smile is like the light, 

Beaming gentl}', beaming bright, 
Driving out our sorrow's night. 

Thy laughter, like a rill 

Leaping from a sun lit iiill, 
Does my soul with music fill. 

'Tis fi'iendship pure and true, 

Cherished only by the few, 
That thou wouldst now renew. 

Then like a jewel set 

In the soul's bright coronet. 
Let its luster linger yet. 

And as the years go by. 

And their shadows on us lie, 
May our friendship never die. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 57. 

TO DAISIE. 

Dear Daisie, I dreamed, last uiglit, of thee, 

And the sweet words 3'ou spoke, in my heart 
linger yet, 

As in ocean shells linger, the sounds of the sea, 
Though never again by its salt waters wet. 

O ! Daisie, dear Daisie,. wherever I stray, 
Or hy the dread fiat of fate I may go ; 

You'll live in ray heart, dear lady, for aye, 
Though fortune may smile, or frown on me woe. 



YOU'RE GETTING OLD, TOISL— Fannie. 

When I run no longer with roving young men. 
Will you tell me,friend Fannie, where you will be then? 
Ah ! sick in the sadness of one score and ten ! 

In sadness as surel3^ 

As single till then. 

When I can not pass for a gallant young beau, 
And maidens look mad when I breathe to them low, 
Pray tell me, will Fannie be fair as the snow ? 

I would that she could, 

But nature says no. 

When care is beginning his furrows to plow, 

O'er the unruffled fields of this ardent young brow, 

Can Fa'tinie say then, Tom 's too old for us now ? 

I 'm sorry you '11 fade, 

But all mortals must bow. 



58. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

When I have grown old and these locks have turned 

gray, 
Which now are the sport of the winds as they play, 
Will Fannie be blooming as fair as to day ? 

I would that she could, 

But nature says nay. 

And oh ! when I learn how the hopos of to-morrow, 
Delude me with lights, which from fancy they bt)rrow, 
^ay can you then tell me, you never knew sorrow ? 

1 would that you could, 

But all feel her arrow. 

When I have grown old and dream long of the past. 
When feeling was young, and when fancy tlew fast, 
Can Fannie then tell me, her beauties still last ? 
I would that she could, 
~^ But tiiev surely will blast. 



A HYMN. 

O ! come, come with me to the house of the Lord, 

Dear comrades, meet me there. 
We shall hear with delight, our Lord's holy word 

And mingle our voices in prayer. 

Chorus. — O ! turn you from death's dark valley, dear 
friends. 
Where you wander in darkness alone, 
To the realms of light, on Zion's high hill, 
And live in the liiiht of the throne. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 59. 

O ! do n't3'ou remember who suffered and died, 

Dear comrades for yon and me ? 
Wlio wept o'er the world in agony deep, 

Aud perished on Calvary's tree ? 

Our Savior has gone to the mansions of rest, 

Dear comrades, a home to prepare ; 
And all who will love and ol)ey his kind word, 

Shall meet him in glor}^ there. 

O ! open the heart to the heavenly flame, 

To the rapture of heavenly love ; 
Tliis low earth is lost to onr mind as we move 

On home to the mansions above. 



TO UNCLE NED. 

My dear old Uncle Ned, 

We suspect that you are dead. 
And no more the prairie tread. 

Nor plow, nor reap, nor sow. 
No more in honest pride, 

On your ready reaper ride. 
Cutting rapid, cutting wide. 

As you reap or as 3^ou mow. 

In grief, alas ! we bow, 

For no more on Sulky plow. 
Ride you like a nabob now, 

O'er the wide and fertile plain. 
But we justly ma}^ suppose, 

In your land are living those. 
Or some one, at least, who knows 

Where vour ashes now remain. 



60. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 



Some one who knew yon well, 

Better than he'd like to tell, 
Save in confidence it fell, 

And no busy breezes near. 
To such, we ma}^ appeal, 

— If no more you move or feel — 
This letter to unseal. 

And reply to people here. 

Fun is free with Uncle Ned, 

Whether living still or dead ; 
And we honor his gray head, 

As his neighbors do, we know. 
And if, where the sun does set, 

You are living, moving yet, 
You 're the same good Ned I '11 bet, 

That we knew you long ago. 




ohhtINAL poetry. 61. 

TO LUCY YELTON. 

Lucv, love, this little ring 

I wear u[)on my finoer yet ; 
And though it is a trifling thing, 

I look on it and oft forget 
Tlie world, and nil Iheiein, save thee. 

Fair lad\% in i.iy revelry. 

1 look on it. yet(h) not see 

The golden tiling I seen] to view, 
For mirrored there will ever be, 

As in a glass, my dearest Lou I 
As in a ;:lass, the smile, the eye, 

The form, the face of beauty nigh. 

I look on it, and, as I look. 

Recall the pictures of the past, 
I view them o'er as in a book. 

Where every shape and shade are cast, 
And the pictures of the prettiest hue. 

Are those in which 1 'm nearest you. 



TO JENNIE. 

O ! Jennie, in those deep blue eyes, 
Love in tranquil beauty lies. 

Like luna in the waters ; 

And though their glances I may meet 

No more, their memory still is sweet. 
Thou pride of Erin's daughters. 



62. ORIGINAL I'OETKY. 

A PKAYER FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 

Our Faliier in IJeaveu, we pray Thee to spare 

The dear litUe cliihlreu at lioine ; 
They twitter aiul play like the birds of the nil*, 

Unconscious of sorrow and trouble and care, 
The glad little children at home. 

Not a poor little spai'row shall flutter and fall 

Unheeded, our Father, by Thee ; 
The winds and the wave come audgo at Thy call, 

Vast worlds bhize is glory, or to nothingness fall. 
As fixed as Th}' faultless decree. 

Then in peace may they rest, we [)ray in the name 

Of Jesus, our gloritied Lord ; 
May the furious fiends of flood and of flame, 

And tropical storm and i)!agues of all name. 
Be kept far away by Thy word. 



TO CARRIE. 

Carrie, I know the child of song, 
Alive to love, alive to wrong. 

Is borne on fancy's wings along. 
Much like an airy vapor. 

His soul is an embodied sigh 
Or glow of love, or in his eye 

Glad Mirth, but see, ah see her fly ! 
Ere Sorrow's pall may drape her. 

His life is like an April day. 
Sun and shade alternate play ; 

As quickly does it pass away, 
The few and feverish hours. 



Olil'JlNAL POETRY. 63. 

Like the winged winds that blow 

Loud and shrill, or soft and low, 
In sweet whispers, as they grow 

Balmy with the flowers. 

Like the ocean's restless wave 

When l)reezes blow, when tempests rave, 
His only calm is in the grave 

Where tempest never lowers. 

T.lie poet's life, his hopes and fears, 
His joys, his sorrows and his tears, 

Are crowded in one half the years 
To other mortals given. 

But better that they are but few 

And full of life, than live to rue 
Throe score and ten, as many do, 

Outside the pale of Heaven. 

Then chide me not, because I sing, 

When joys elate, or sorrows wring 
The heart, or when on fancy's wing 

I fly untoth}' bosom. 



TO MISS HAMILTON. 

Ail ! gentle maid, methinks I trace 
The sorrows of a broken vow, 

In those eyes and o'er that face. 

Though veiled by smiles so gaily now 

Yes, deep within the silent cell 

Of thy sad soul some sorrow lies : 

An echo ot hope's last farewell, 

That's sometimes faint, yet never dies. 



64. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

And shall Ihis mournfu! echo fill 
Forever memory's spacious hall ? 

Shall death, at last, this discord still ? 
O ! from us, then, may sorrow fall. 



SIGHING FOR HOME. 

How slowly time flies, 

When the heart's full of sighs, 
lu remembrance of friends and of home 

Each wearisome day. 
Seems a week to delay, 

When sadly we 'le sighing for home. 

The stranger's cold smile 

Ma}^ a moment beguile, 
And novelty cheer as we roam ; 

But all is a cheat. 
For time's nerer fleet. 

When sadly we're sighing for home. 

Oft, oft mid the gay, 

Though from home far away, 
The morrow is speedy to come ; 

A week is away 
In the space of a day, 

But then we're not sighing for home. 

Time only is fleet, 

When fair maidens I meet, 
Then most I would have it a drone ; 

But slow are the hours 
Away from love's bowers. 

When sadly I'm sighing for home. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 65. 

TO LIZZIE. 

Lizzie, IVoiii lliose eyes of liliie, 

Beams a soul so pure and true, 
I can not help but love thee ; 

And thougli my heart is all a glow 
Of love, 'tis vain, too well I know, 

Too far thou art above me. 

Serenely fair that smiling face, 

Such beauty and such queenly grace, 

I've found in few before thee ; 
But lone bosom, cease to swell, 

I love not wisely, but too well, 
1 do almost adore thee. 

Thy mind, fair lad\', soars above 
The things that pride and folly love, 

Gay tinselries of fashion. 
Above the noisy revelry. 

The lust and sensualit}', 
Of pleasure and of i)assion. 

But tranquil as a summer's day, 

Youth's happy hours pass away, 
No clouds of sorrow driven 

Across thy bosom's azure sky, 
Thy heart's too pure, tliv^ hopes too high, 

Too long, too firm in Heaven. 



66. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

DUTY OF AMERICAN TEACHERS. 
Road at the Teachers' Institute at Covington, Kentucky. 

Ill addilon to the duties common to teachers everv- 
where, there are others orovviii<>' out of the o;eniiis ofoiii- 
republican institutions, which are as distinctively our 
own as our political duties, as good citizens of the great 
republic, are distinctively American. 

These duties, patriotic in natuie, may be consider- 
ed firstly in reference to our profession ; secondly, in 
reference to our i)upils; thirdly, in r«eference to the public. 

That our pi-ofession, in a land whei-e the general 
intelligence is synonymous with the general good, should 
be held in the highest esteem by all classes, and that 
our pecuniary reward and social position should be 
equal to those of the most favored [)rofessions, would 
seem but a reasonable conclusion. 

The facts do not sustain the hypothesis. In his 
report for 1876-7, the U. S. Commissioner of Education, 
in reference to the public economist who insists on cut- 
ting down teachers' wages, observetl that "a large 
majorit}^ of the teachers are receiving a salary not large 
enough to attract him (the economist) from the arena 
of absolute idleness, for which they are spending their 
time, energies and sympathies in a work most clearly 
detrimental to health, as the new-made graves of many 
of our best teachers will sadly attest." 

We have rea.l of a French cook in an Eastern cit}', 
who received a higher salary than the learned President 
of Yale college. 

As further evidence that our labors are not appreci- 
ated by the public, we may add, that too many journals 
of to-day, pandering to a popular taste for athletic sports, 
instead of leading the people to the higher and more 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 67. 

excellent plains of mental activity, publish all the de- 
tails of a base ball contest, while the}' consign to the 
waste basket, as being too long t'oi- i)iiblication, the essays 
of genius and learning, sparkling with gems of thought, 
and replete with words of wisdom, set '"like apples of 
gold in pictures ot silver." 

But let us not waste precious time in unavailing 
complaints against the public, while so many faults are 
found in our own ranks. To these, at least, we may ap- 
ply a remedy, and to these we turn our attention, remem- 
bering that ''God helps those who help themselves." 

There are many persons engaged in teaching, whose 
entire slock of learning consists of a very limited ac- 
quaintance with those bi'anches required by law, to be 
taught in the couimou schools. Knowing nothing of 
science, literature, or general history, how can they hope 
to command either a I'cspectable salary or an enviable 
position in society. 

Nay, setting themselves up as teachers, and claim- 
ing to be educated, how can their presumption escape 
the merited contempt of the e^lucated classes ? 

Thus encumbered with pretenders within and apa- 
thy without, the profession which should be, in all re- 
spects, the brightest and the best, has fallen so sadly 
into disfavor, that aspiring talent turns (piickly away 
from a prospect, at once, so full of arduous labor, and so 
destitute of both fame and fortune. 

What is the remedy V What can be done to place 
our profession, where all acknowledge it ought to be, .in 
the front rank of human energies : to make it, if not the 
high road to fortune, at least a title of honor, so much 
courted and coveted by discerning genius, as it is now 
discarded by ambitious talent. 

Where there is a will, there is a way. Let every 
teacher, filled with the ambition of noble minds, resolve 



68. ORIGINAL POETRY. 

to do his whole duty. Let every light lanee he lifted 
in the charge and every bright blade flash in the con- 
test until victory is ours. It' we are too numerous, let 
our ranks be decimated by a higher standard of qualili- 
cations necessary to teach. Let a longer api)renticeship 
be served by those entering the profession, before iis 
highest honors and emoluments can be obtained. As 
another incentive to greater exertions, we might insti- 
tute degrees, each embracing a certain number of equiv- 
alent bi'anches and having some pretty badge or jewel, 
as a visible exponent. For exami)le, a silver star might 
mark the first degree, two stars the second, a golden star 
the third, and thus on through as n-iany degrees as might 
be established. 

Thus graded, with boards of examin(>rs elected, and 
times appointed for examinations, by wiiich the higher 
honors might be successively reached, who cati doubt 
that great good would soon result to the profession in 
this way. 

Again ; those country teachers, who condescend 
to sweep school-houses and to build flres for the districts 
in which they are employed, should be reminded that 
the duties of janitor and teacher are incompatible, and 
can not be perfoi'med by the latter, without a great sac- 
rifice of professional dignity. 

There are also some defects in the Kentucky school 
laws, which should receive our early attention. 

First, our salaries ought to be paid monthly. Sec- 
ondly, the law allowing the County Commissioner to 
exact of each teacher two dollars annually, as Listitute 
Fund, to l)e expended by hini at his discretion in pro- 
viding instruction for the teachers, thus ignoring our 
manhood and intelligence, is a humiliation not to tamely 
be endured. As if to make this law still more odious, 



OKKilNAL POETRY. 69. 

tlie acl furllit'i- piovifles tiiut the County Board of Ex- 
aminers sliall l)e [)ai(l tVoni this money, after which the 
remainder, if any, shall be distriijuted among those dis- 
tiicts having libi-aries. The navigation laws and htamp 
Act imposed by England upon tiie Colonies, while more 
o[)pressive only because more universal, were not more 
unjust or odious. 

We [)ay the ICxaminers for our certificates, why 
shoidd we pay them for theii" attendance at the Institute? 
and why are we taxed to build U[) libraries in which we 
have no direct or negotiable interest ? 

We are su|)posed to be an intelligent bo;ly, and as 
such we ought to ;now, as well as any County Commis 
sioner, what instruction we nee<l. iiow much we will i)ay 
for it. and when and how long we will hold our Institutes 

W^e ought to elect our own officers, fix our own fees, 
and, in short, attend to our own business as other in- 
telligent bodies do. 

But we read, ''Who would be free, himself must 
strike the blow." Then let the indignant voice of eveiy 
teacher in the State be hear<l against these humiliating 
provisions until they shall l)e struck from the statutes. 

These are a few of the duties to our profession which 
suggest themselves to me, liut the assembled wisdom 
here to-day, and that of similai- l)odies,will suggest many 
other, and doubtless much better things to be done, by 
the. teachers in a collective capacity, for the gootl and 
honor of our noble cause. 

But while our public meetings are interesting, in- 
structive and indispensable, we conceive that the most 
important work necessary to be done in placing our 
profession upon a higher basis, must be done by each 
individual teacher, in, upon and for himself. 

No teacher should rest satisfied with any ordinaiy 
degree of scholarship ; but, remembering that "A little 



70. ORIGINAL rOETKY. 

lenrning is ii dangerous lljiiig/' and ad.o[)lin<>: excelsior 
as ins inolto, lie should press nobly forward and strive 
to overcome every obstacle in his |)athvvay to liiu;h and 
honorable attainments, and thus drink deep of the 
Piei'ian S[)i'ing. 

Holding' the ai)pelites under control by a severe and 
noble self-denial, antl making a long ami an heroic etfort 
to rise, Ik; may 

" Pluck l»ri;4ht honor from ilio palc-f.tccd moon, 
Or (live iiiLo I la Ijoltom of l\w, donp 
And draj^ up crowned lionor by liio locks." 

Inordinate love of glory is not. to be commemled or 
enconrag(Ml, but the modest sentiment of the '• Flower, 
born to l)lush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the 
desert air," has no action, no energy, no glory in it. We 
should make a most diligent use of the talents given us, 
that in th(nr highest and brightest develoixnenl, one 
:nay themore gloi-ify the great and good AuVhor of our 
existence. 

We will now consider the second division of our 
subject. The American teacher should enable his pu 
pils to form clear conceptions of the nature of our free 
institutions, and fully comprehend the great truLli 
affirme<l by the founders of our government, that the 
permanency of republican institutions depends upon the 
virtue and intelligence of the people. Not only should 
their minds be thus enlightened, but their hearts should 
be filled with boundless and enthusiastic love of our 
glorious land, " of every land the pride." 

Contrast the unlimited liberties, the great prosperi- 
ty, the general intelligence and homediappiness of our 
people, with the subordination, the ignorance, the pov- 
erty and hard lot of the masses of the old world. Let 
tiiem be taught that the map of Europe, so often chang- 
ed by the red hand of war betvveen the pett}' and jealous 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 71. 

States, pi'L'scMits few of those gi'eal elements of progress, 
peace and grandeur that so eiiiineatly mark llie map of 
^Vnieriea, wliieli is changed in outline, only to he enlarg- 
ed, and, in intern:il feature, onlv to mark the birth of 
States, th<^ founding of ciiies, antl the rapid progress of 
a CMiristian civilization, whose wealth, [)Ower and [)rom- 
ise fdl our own hearts with gratitude, pride and exulta- 
tion, and challenge the admiration of the entire world. 

Let our pu|)ils he t;iuglit tliat the great Amei-ican 
idea and realization oflilu'i-iy are not the growth of a 
day, l)Ut that the infant colonies left to take care of 
themselves, soon learned a self rcli; nee, whicli never de- 
sei'ted them, and that the h ve of li!)ei"ty grew with their 
growth and strengthened with their strength until the 
sentiment, ''Give me liberty or give me death," was well- 
nigh universal when uttered by the immortal lleni-y. 

Again, liberty, baptized in the [jatriot blood of the 
Revolution, arose from that sanguinary fount "to walk 
in newness of life" and to show to the nations of the 
earth the great superiority of an intelligent democi'aey, 
in which there ai'eno privileged classes, no entailed titles, 
over the musty monarchies of th.e old worbl, where he- 
i-editary rank tramples down the fair form of native genius 

We should point our pupils to the illustrious char- 
acters of the Revolution, by whose long suffering and 
unparalleled heroism, we enjoy the inestimable blessings 
of ciyil and religious liberty : let their busts and por- 
traits aflorn our school- rooms, together with as many 
i-evolutionary battle-scenes as i)ossil)le ; let them esti- 
mate the cost of our liberties by these illustrations, and 
learn to emulate the patriotic examples of those immor- 
tal heroes. 

After having taught our inipils the great cost of our 
liberties, the}' should be deeply impressed with the great 



72. OllIGlNAL POETRY. 

responsibililifs of Amerieat) ciLizonshi|), and, with the 
fact that thc-y are soon to he eiistotliansot' these prieeh.'ss 
treasures. 

History shoiiKl evidently receive imieh more atten- 
tion in our schools than it does now, and we are sanguine 
in the belief, that, if the (nmrter of a niillion Anieiiean 
teaehers would work earnestly for their country, in the 
WMy indicated, the ascendency of the demagogue in 
American politics would soon he a thing of the past and 
good and true men would till all places of p'ublic trust, 
to the great good and hono)- (jf our country. 

In reference to our public duties, we Mgain quote 
from our National Commissioner. He says : ''It can 
not be doubted, that the gie:it liberty guaranteed to all 
among us has much to do with the good will that pre- 
vails in Anierican society, while the latter is specially 
promoted by systems of education, in which the children 
of nil classes meet on common ground, rise by their own 
merits, a-quire notions of each other, and form attach- 
ments fitted ever after to lessen the difference that sep- 
erate interests and fierce competition are calculated to 
generate. The American teacher c;in not, with safety, 
fix his eyes upon his text book and pupil to the neglect 
of these broad views. He works where all of these an- 
tagonistic forces converge, and where they must first btJ 
harmonized. He must inculcate the sentiments and 
encourage the customs which are to be the surest safe- 
guards against the destructive conflicts arising between 
the two forces, capital and labor." 

Again, he says : " The teacher and educator should 
not beiiehind in those problems which relate es[)ecially 
to their si)here of responsibility. They must take inl-o 
consideration the entire school [)0[)ulation, and leave no 
untaught classes or individuals, from which, without let 



ORIGINAL POETRY. '^>. 

or hindrniu-e, the ranks of pauperism, vice and crime are 
to be recruited. To be sure, the educator may say with 
iustice, as a rule, that thechihl life does not come under 
his direct responsibility until five years of age, and that, 
so far as reached at all by official action, he is affected 
at iK^nic or on the streets only by the general municipal 
administration. 

But the educator, if he has not the direct control, m 
any way, over the child in this early period, is by Uie 
public set as the watchman on this part of the wall. The 
work which he is soon to take up is begun here. The 
form it takes here will have much to do with his success 
or failure. 

He can not omit the stu<ly of these outside tacts 
without plain dereliction of duty. 

He should be able to give a correct idea of them 
and their bearings to the public and to officials charged 
witii general administration and co-operate to secure 
such Tegislative and administrative measures as are best 
fitted to secure universal intelligence and knowledge in 
accordance with the genius of our institutions. 

We will briefly add that the patriotic teacher may 
do his country a great service by assisting in establish- 
ing libraries in local centers, and without being a poli- 
tic^ian, which he ought never to be, he may teach sound 
political principles by delivering lectures occasionally in 
the districts and neighborhoods in which he is located 
Thus he may make himself useful in his day and by 
illustrating in precept and practice that the title of an 
American citizen is far above that of any party name, 
he may help to strike the hateful shackles of party from 
the otherwise free limbs of the American citizen and 
teach him to stand erect in his independent manhood, 
as becomes a creature made in the image of God. 



C 32 89 ^i 








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